


Poster Child

by prncecharming



Category: The Ascendance Trilogy - Jennifer A. Nielsen
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, College AU, M/M, gay rights babey!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-07-27 10:28:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20044495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prncecharming/pseuds/prncecharming
Summary: Darius unveils his campaign poster for the upcoming student elections. What could go wrong?





	Poster Child

“You think this is too much?” Darius held the sides of the poster straight, the ends threatening to curl in at even a minor slip up. Designing the damn thing was enough work, but wrangling it had to be worse? What was next? Putting it up? Impossible.

Mathis glanced over from his book, popping a bubble as he kicked his feet back and forth behind him. “For who?” He rolled over on the bed, grabbing the book and lifting it above his head, making a face as if he was trying oh so hard to understand the particular picture on the page before setting it down and looking back over at Darius with a grin. “I think, for you, that’s the perfect amount of text to image ratio, or whatever you were saying earlier, but--” he finally climbed off the bed, going to help his struggling boyfriend with the unruly poster paper, “it doesn’t show who you _are_, and I know for a _fact_ that person’s pretty great.”

Darius blinked back at him, letting him hold one end of the poster, looking back down at it. It had the catchy slogan, the promises, readable text--it was, all in all, the perfect campaign poster, but maybe it was _too_ perfect. Even if Mathis wasn’t insinuating that, the more he looked at it, the more robotic it looked.

It was perfect. It had everything it _needed_. This was the poster child of campaign posters. But it wasn’t _him_. “Oh, c’mon, Darry, you’ve got your face scrunched up like you’ve seen that one documentary you don’t like,” Mathis snapped his fingers, looking up at the ceiling, before breaking out into a grin and hitting him on the shoulder, “oh! Oh! The one set in, uh, medieval England, the one that uh--oh, the dress! You _hated_ that dress!” Darius just looked over at him blankly before laughing, letting go of the poster and letting it furl shut with a snap before hugging Mathis close.

“I _did_ hate that dress. It wasn’t period accurate and they should be _ashamed_ of themselves,” he pulled back, his eyes shining once again. “I mean--ruffles were not--they can’t just,” he stuck up his hands, “sure, sure, aesthetically, it looks nice, but what would happen if they were faced with the _facts_?”

“Which are?”

“_I hate it_!” Mathis burst out laughing, pulling him close again.

“Oh, yeah, _you tell ‘em_, I’m sure they’d love to hear a strongly worded letter from you, going over _all_ the little details of the period, _really_, I’m sure they’d love it,” he flashed a grin at him, “make for great _kindlin’_,” not letting go for a moment even when Darius scoffed, tilting his head at him as if he happened to be actually offended.

“Maybe I _should_ let them know, you never _know_. Maybe they’re just _dying_ to read my _email_,” he emphasized with a pointed look before his features cracked into a smile, “who do you think I _am_?”

“Oh, perfect! They can slam dunk that into spam emails!” He squeezed him tight, closing his eyes to breathe in the smell of Darius’ cologne. The familiar scent always brought a smile to his face--and Darius wondered why he stole his sweatshirts, if only all his clothes had that smell built in. Mathis pushed him away for a second, raising an eyebrow over at him, but Darius only returned his cocky grin--tenfold. Man, when he wasn’t a nerd, it was kind of hot. Kind of. The ends of his mouth curled upwards as he reached for the rolled up poster and whacked him with it.

Darius gasped, stumbling back as if mortally wounded, holding his arm like he got a really bad paper cut. “_You_! You’d attack someone who’s _unarmed_?”

“Unarmed?” Mathis feigned innocence, tilting his head at him, “but you appear to have both of them, do you not?” And then he approached again, a look that only spelled trouble on his face--poster at the ready. Darius swiveled from side to side and thinking quickly, he grabbed the closest thing to him: a Sharpie.

“By all means, then,” he said, lowering his gaze and pointing his uncapped pen out towards the other, “you may have a sword, but I have that which is mightier.” Mathis laughed, throwing his head back.

“Oh? A pen? What are you going to do? Spellcheck me to death?”

“As it so happens!” Darius slashed the pen through the air, “I just might!” Mathis arched backwards, stumbling over the blue jeans he had left on the floor earlier but regaining his footing and rolling his neck, smirking over at his prince.

“Impressive… but you know how I said you weren’t on this poster enough? You _will_ be by the end of the night,” and he lunged forward, causing Darius to fall backwards only to catch himself on the bed, rolling off just in time to avoid Mathis’ second swing. He held his shrimpy marker up against the other, squatting on the floor as he caught his breath--it was remarkable just how many times Mathis took his breath away, amiright ladies?

“This isn’t my idea of collaborative editing, but if this is how the cards have fallen, then I will make sure yours fall too.”

“With a Sharpie? Unlikely.” And Darius dove for him, tackling him down against the bed, working quick to scribble on his face. Against all odds, he stayed on top--the saints, and Mathis, granting him ample opportunity to throw the pen back and steal his breath away with a kiss this time.

After pulling away, Darius only smirked at him. “You were saying?”

“Forget what I was _saying_, do that _again_.”


End file.
